


turn into something beautiful

by sarcasticfishes



Series: wish i could finish what i started [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, NHL Trade Deadline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-21
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-08 20:03:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10394991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasticfishes/pseuds/sarcasticfishes
Summary: “Should… should I start packing?” Bitty asked, “When do we have to be in Pittsburgh?”Jack cleared his throat, trying to remember what Georgia had told him. He’d never been traded before.





	

**Author's Note:**

> i'm just posting some unfinished works from my WIP folder, trying to clear it out! this ficlet never went much further than this in my head, i just wanted to write jack and bitty having a reaction to being traded, and also something where he and sid are friends. title is coldplay's 'yellow' because. well. pittsburgh.

‘ _Everyone gets traded.’_ Jack took a slow, steady breath, his trembling fingers moving over the screen of his phone. There was 12 hours before the deadline, but he knew there was no going back. ‘ _Even me.’_

Bitty’s reply came fast and furious. They’d talked about the trading window before, just in case, but neither of them had ever expected a trade. Jack had thought he was going to be a Falconer for life.

_‘WHAT? WHERE?’_ Bitty’s reply came, and Jack had got good at reading the tone of Bitty’s texts; he could feel the panic vibrating off of every character.

_‘Pittsburgh’,_ Jack replied, and set phone down on the bench next to him, staring out at the ice, and the rink he’s called home for the last four years. His phone started to buzz against the wood of the bench, moving incrementally every time. He picked it up before it tipped off the edge, answered on a sigh.

“Bits.”

“You’re the _captain,_ ” Bitty breathed, sounding so conflicted, so confused, “They’re trading their captain?”

“It happens,” Jack frowned, scuffing his foot against the floor. “I go to Pittsburgh and Providence gets Guentzel and next year’s second round pick.”

“Should… should I start packing?” Bitty asked, “When do we have to be in Pittsburgh?”

Jack cleared his throat, trying to remember what Georgia had told him. He’d never been traded before. 

“Uh, well the announcement is tomorrow, and I have to be in Pittsburgh the day after. You can stick around here for a while, maybe? I’ll get a hotel and look for a place near Cranberry probably. Or wherever.”

“Okay.” Bitty breathed out, sounding placated. “Okay. It’ll be fine. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Jack said. He was shaking. “I’m… I’m shaking but, I’m in the rink, and I don’t have a jacket, so—”

“You’re never cold, Jack,” Bitty said, softly. And then, “You’re _Canadian_.”

Jack huffed out a laugh, and stared down at his knees. The ice seemed too bright.

“I guess I’m just sad, then,” he admitted.

.

Jack could picture it in his mind; in the foyer of the arena there was a cabinet filled with trophies and photos. The team holding the Cup last year. Jack’s second year as captain, and his first ever cup.

And they were _trading_ him?

Bitty was lying next to him in bed, scrolling through Twitter on his phone when the news broke.

“Penguins gain another top scorer—” he read from one source, and Jack smiled, until he continued with “ —a nd the Falconers make the biggest mistake in franchise history.”

“Ugh,” Jack rolled over, dragging a pillow over his head, and moments later he felt Bitty’s comforting hand on his back. 

“ _Baby_ ,” Bitty cooed, under his breath, just a comforting noise more than anything. Jack pulled his head out from under the pillow.

“I— have a lot of feelings right now.”

“You wanna tell me about them?” Bitty asked, rubbing the sole of his foot against Jack’s ankle and wriggling closer.

“It’s just… all mixed up. Sad about leaving Providence. Mad that they’re trading their captain after they win a Cup? Glad that you’re coming with me to Pittsburgh, and that I already have friends there….”

“But?”

Jack huffed, pushing his face into the pillow.

“Dad was a Penguin, too,” he said. “Mario was a Pen. Sid’s a Pen. This team already has a huge history, and the Falcs… didn’t.”

“You wanted to be the start of that history,” Bitty finished Jack’s though for him with ease, and Jack sighed softly, turning onto his side and curling in against Bitty.

.

Sidney braved the crowds to meet him at the airport, because he and Jack had known each other for just about as long as Jack could remember, and that’s what you do for a friend who’s just had the rug pulled out from underneath him. Jack remembered being sixteen, laying on the floor next to Sid’s bed in Mario’s house, and wondering if someday they’d play together. He had never thought it would be like this.

“Hey man,” Sid was badly hidden under a baseball cap, his crooked smile recognisable anywhere as he beamed up at Jack and let himself be pulled into a one-armed hug. “This is going to be great, okay?”

“It will,” Jack agreed, knowing he sounded as unconvinced as he felt.

.

There was a picture of his father on the wall at Consol, a number eleven banner hanging from the rafters. It made him feel ill. It made him feel guilty.

“C’mon,” Sid said. “I’ll take you to meet Dana and the equipment guys.”

“Aren’t there supposed to be like, officials who do this?” Jack wondered.

“Well yeah,” Sid shrugged a shoulder, smiling, “But we’re friends, Jack, and— and I know this is hard on you.”

Jack’s feet seemed to stop of their own accord, and Sid kept walking a few paces before he realised, and turned on the spot. He looked as if he was deflating.

“You don’t know what this is like,” Jack frowned, “You don’t know at _all_ , Sid.”

Sid huffed out a small, quiet sigh, and looked down at his feet. Jack idly noticed, through the blurry anger, that they were both wearing yellow shoes. Bitty would be horrified. _Will_ be horrified.

“Yeah, you’re right, Jack. I got drafted at eighteen, I was captain just before I turned twenty. And you— well, I was winning the cup and you were about to go into rehab.”

Jack turned his face away. Sid had come to visit him once during the ordeal; it had been quiet and awkward, but it had been better than some of the other visitors he’d received during his stay. It was one of the better memories.

“So yeah, I’ve never been traded and I’ve never lost my captaincy and I didn’t decide to come out on the night of my Stanley Cup win, but that’s how I know that you’re gonna be fine here, Jack. Fuck, you’re gonna be _great_ here.”

Jack sighed, a somewhat pathetic, though genuine smile gracing his lips.

“Hey. Don’t let them nickname me, eh?”

Sid raised his hands up in a peace offering.

“No promises, Zimmboni.”

“ _No_.”

 

 

 


End file.
